Frontier Town Traveller's Haus - Guest Rooms

[Ambyssin]

The end of the workday still brought with it soreness. Nova got the sense he was getting stronger just from the simple construction job — he was able to use Aerial Ace to quickly get something up to a higher ledge on site today, which no doubt surprised a coworker or two given his bulky frame — but not by that much. He wanted to lie down. Nova could grab dinner later if he was feeling up to it. Otherwise, there was some jerky and trail mix he'd decided to get from the general store. Decent enough protein... and dried fruit to boot. The others probably gawked at the stuff. But for someone who hadn't eaten in a literal millennium, it was all delightful.

Nova slowly made his way to his room. Stairs were quickly becoming his mortal enemy in this world.

 

[Cresselia92]

Sitting on the bed of his room, Silver was working on an impossible task: learning how to braid with his claws. He glared at the lock of long fur, which he had carefully gathered while cleaning the floor of his employer’s place and tied together with a rubber band. But it turned out that focusing the weak telekinesis on four tiny tips simultaneously was a strenuous task.

Huffing in annoyance, he ran his paw through the lock once more… only to find out that there were knots everywhere now. That fact drained what was left of his patience.

“Uuugh! Stupid missing fingers!” Frustrated, he marched toward his door and flung it open, before stomping out of his room and hissing to himself. “I need some fresh air before I make a mess!”

 

[Butterfree]

Dave stumbled back to the Traveller's Haus, vision swimming. Gerome's cactus whiskey really had had a kick.

He'd been a couple of drinks in when Odette, the Mawile from the minecart, had sidled up to him and asked if he'd caught what she'd been saying back at the dining hall. Well, no, he hadn't, but she'd clearly wanted him to find out.

Supposedly, then, this Sonora person was some lovable rogue type who wasn't even planning to steal anything, just hoping to nobly sabotage the mayor's slimy gentrification plans about buying all the land out from under the locals. If she was to be believed, anyway. Who the fuck could say? Wouldn't the highway robber approaching normies for help claim to have some noble motivation? Didn't have to mean shit. Something about her knowing Brisa, the Escarpa kid Gerome had mentioned. So what. None of this fucking changed anything. If grass cat Robin Hood over there knew what was best for her and her little gang she'd stay the fuck away. Publicly crashing the party of the judge-jury-executioner-mayor was just childish fucking noise that'd get them all killed, and for fucking what? Stupid motherfuckers.

She had also supposedly said the point was this gala thing was going to be full of rich types from out of town that the mayor wanted to impress so they'd finance his bullshit. From out east, then? The Commonwealth? Were those the human supremacist types they were supposed to stop? That was the bit that kept spinning around in his head. Something to do. He could go to the fucking gala and see who these fuckers were. Maybe tell them why they should not give all their money to the guy who'd spend it building statues of himself and sentencing people to death for petty crimes.

Fuck.

He crashed on his bed. He'd be pretty fucking hungover in the morning. Morning. Wasn't there somewhere he was going to go in the morning? Fuck. Fuck.

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[Keleri]

After the fight at the river, Tarahn had retired to a comfy spot in a crawlspace under a building to sleep off his injuries, and now he was awake and nosing around town to see what his buddies were up to. One building in particular seemed to be the nexus of a lot of familiar smells and tasty ones. For reasons known only to him, he scaled the side of it to a window left slightly open and shoved and wriggled his way in, thumping onto the floor to the dismay and grim resignation of its occupant.

"Hey Corey," Tarahn said, picking up his now-somehow-more-filthy hat off the floorboards. "You seem sad! I won't try to hug you because we fell down really hard that other time. What are you sad about?"

 

[Cresselia92]

Silver walked into his room, humming to himself. Small strands of fur of all kinds littered his own pelt, but that wasn't in his mind at the moment.

It had been a productive day, way more than he expected. With so many last-minute requests of new fur styles for the tonight’s gala, he had gathered his own little fortune out of generous tips from high society 'mons. So, the countdown to the celebration had been beneficial for him, too.

He placed the pouch of gold on the table, accidentally jolting a loose coin that rolled toward the other side of the table. With swift reflexes, Silver slammed his paw on the table to stop its journey. By doing so, the tips of his claws brushed a familiar paper piece, and he immediately retracted his arm.

There it was, the invitation to the gala. Its brilliant ink seemed to stare back at him, mocking silently. Grumbling to himself, Silver grabbed the ticket, holding the extremities between his pairs of claws.

What compelled him to get that invitation, anyway? It's not like he fancied expensive business parties and the limitless fakeness surrounding them. Heck, that kind of party only dredged up bad mementos…

Spoiler: Memory: Madame Boss’ Ambition

Alone. Despite being surrounded by fifty or more people, he felt so alone. The atmosphere was stifling and lifeless, and the ten-year-old Silver felt so out of place with those elegant-looking men and women. All of them chatting about all kinds of questionable business, drinking expensive sake and savoring Qwilfish sushi.

And those glares. Countless poker faces staring down at him. Silently studying every single movement. Waiting for a slipup, a simple mistake to latch onto him like a pack of famished Houndoom.

Home. He wanted to go home. Why was he there? Why couldn't he be anywhere but there? It wasn't his business. He didn't want it to be his business. He just—

“…Are you sure about that, Madame? The Pokémon Tower in Lavender Town?”

Silver winced as he was dragged back to the present. Hesitantly, he looked up, his gaze landing on the apprehensive expression of the admin beside his grandmother. Then he glanced at her. She looked bored.

“They are just a pile of dusty graves,” she said, her tone as cold and emotionless as ever. “Such a waste of valuable space. Those worthless remains don't deserve an entire tower dedicated to them.”

“But Mr. Fuji—”

Madame Boss interrupted the admin with a swift glare. “Mr. Fuji will not be a problem.” Then she sported an unsettling smile. “I have my ways to persuade that old bleeding heart.”

“But if the Pokémon Tower will be torn down, then what will be built in its place?”

At hearing that question, Madame Boss’ smile shifted subtly, from cunning to calculating. “Well, I have heard that the radio business has become extremely lucrative as of late…”

…And she did just that. Mr. Fuji couldn't do anything to stop her ambition and the much more modern Radio Tower replaced the ancient cemetery. A monument from Kanto’s past… destroyed mercilessly. Just because it wasn't lucrative enough. And by doing so, Madame Boss extended her own clutches further, gaining a sizable profit out of radio programs as a sponsor. The sponsor who crushed the memories of helpless citizens… for power.

Disgust and dread gnawed at Silver’s guts. Everything about that gala felt like one massive déjà vu. Lands and landmarks stolen through morally dubious legal ways. Greedy business men — ‘mons — gathered to gain even more money and power. All at the expense of people who sacrificed sweat and blood for some food and a roof over their heads.

However… was it really his business? That world wasn't his world, and he doubted that Cloud brought him and the others there to solve some political tussle. Unless matters were so desperate that the local population wasn't enough to stop that madness. But again, a bunch of random humans and ‘mons plucked from random worlds wasn't exactly the best way to solve that situation, was it?

“What do I do?” Silver murmured to himself, flipping the invitation over and over. “Should I really get myself involved in this mess?” He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. “Even then, what can I do? Should I… even do anything…?”

“Why should I listen to the words of an egotistical jerk who would have let a sick Ampharos die? I’m going into that Rocket base because it's the right thing to do, and you can't stop me!”

Silver tensed. Even after all those years, Kris’ admonition and recklessness haunted his mind from time to time. Against better judgment, he replied to that memory, “It’s not like… I don't want anyone to die! But… Should I get myself involved and risk potential consequences, or…?”

“But what do you know, anyway? Have you ever cared about anything or anyone but yourself?”

“Of course I care!” Silver screamed at the phantom voice. “I’m not that heartless!” He paused, his breathing raspy. “I’m not… heartless…”

Uncomfortable silence filled the room, with only the random squeaks of Maus offering some faint ambience. Heartbeats reverberated in his lone ear, making it harder for him to traverse his own internal turmoil. After minutes of pondering, he breathed out, hard.

“…Gods.” He shook his head. “So, I’m really gonna do it, huh.” A soft chuckle slipped out of his lips, equally amused and kicking himself for his decision. “I guess attending those business parties and learning about dress code wasn't a total waste of my time, after all…”

Sound of mind and heart, Silver reached out for his brush. He needed to get ready for his party, and his fur and attire needed to be immaculate. Attending the gala might not have been his business nor in his best interests, but he was going to make it his, if he had to! Consequences be damned!

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[Mr.RMA]

Still plenty exhausted, and more than a little irritated from the lingering, painful burns, particularly around his well-bandaged face, Corey could do little more than lay down on his bed and try to get his thoughts in order once more...

He hoped Lorenzo wouldn't put him in some kind of massive debt, especially since he needed to buy himself a new, more practical outfit for this rough lifestyle he was increasingly getting involved in. Moreover, the words his 'guide' had spoken to him were also running through his mind on constant repeat.

Yet, above all else, he just wanted to be left alone for a little while. The embarrassment he'd suffered at the gala was just something he was having difficulty letting go, even with the knowledge that he'd played a vital part in Ignatius' defeat. He felt he'd let the other human-turned-Pokemon down by having them all outed like that... and those who were Pokemon to begin with would have the stigma of associating with them as well... To say the least, he was feeling mighty guilty about the entire matter, and these injuries ultimately felt like a karmic reminder he'd be stuck with, even as they faded, leaving plainly visible scars in their wake.

 

[Tetra]

It was your plan. You did this. A shaky sigh escaped him, his chest aching again. If only he could just get a pokemon to use hypnosis on him. Did it work like that here? Every time he closed his eyes, his thoughts traveled back to the wagon, the fire, those eyes and the sound of the Rattata-.

Drungfield had advised him to take it easy for the next few days, and he was too tired to really protest. Not like he had somewhere better to be. No team to go back to, or journey to get back to. Just sleep, hopefully. He stared at the wall, trying to distract himself by thinking of anything else...

 

[Tetra]

It took Koa a long time to finally fall asleep. He kept tossing and turning, trying to find a way to lay down that didn’t make his chest ache. Eventually he settled for lying awkwardly on his side, but couldn’t quite get his mind to stop racing. It was exhaustion that finally won him over into blissful sleep.

Fire woke him up. He jolted to his feet, wincing reflexively to see orange flames licking at the walls, and more dancing orange lights outside. No... He sprinted for the door, shoving it open and stumbling onto the stony ground. Harsh wind blew between the sparse trees and he shivered. Even his Electrike fur didn’t seem to keep out the chill. Rocky hills rose around him, cold ridges of stone before him. In the distance, fire painted the skies red, smoke blocking out the stars.

A shadow fell across him and Koa whipped around.

Entei towered above him, gazing down on him with an empty white gaze. Its gaze. Lightless embers fell from its pelt, its mane oozing off its body in pools of dark smoke. Run!!! He moved backwards, his limbs dragging unnaturally slowly. He opened his jaws to call out for his team, but his voice came out a parched whisper.

Entei took a step towards him, emotionless as ever. Then it opened its jaws, more dark flames gathering within. Move move move- He threw himself to the side at the last moment, a bolt of black flame exploding where he stood.

He got to his feet, only to see Entei once more, gazing down at him. Koa was rooted to the spot, its gaze boring into him.

You don't belong here.

It spoke without moving its mouth, the voice ringing, ringing in his head- Chains, wrapped around him-

Koa lurched and his eyes shot open. Just a dream, just a dream- “Echo?” he whispered.

Four small walls instead of a tent, a bed that wasn’t his. And no cheery Crobat or calm Joltik. Just a too scratchy blanket and a too warm room.

The dream memory lingered. Already the details were murky in his brain...

You don't belong here.

Koa’s blood turned to ice. The memory stung. Like his brain had brushed against a hot iron. It felt real. Like something had actually spoken to him. He shivered and buried his face into the pillow. Just a dream. It’s right. You don’t belong here. Except somehow it reminded him of how it felt when the Voice spoke in his dreams. It had been so... clear.

A dull ache settled in his chest, deeper than the wounds he’d received. The room felt emptier than ever, and he would have given anything for his crowded tent back home. To feel Hazard’s gentle weight on his head, Echo sprawled across his chest like he would do as a Zubat. For Rascal’s attitude or Flurry’s peppiness. No Anubis, keeping the tent warm. There would be no Scrapper prodding him awake at the crack of dawn to train.

He closed his eyes, fixing Echo's grin in his head. He wished the Crobat was here. Echo would probably lick his face and try to get him to cheer up. He would give a little chirp and do one of his loops and push him along, tell him to stop thinking so hard. Tell him not to lose hope, and that he had to keep trying. Hazard would tell him to be smart and figure out the problem. And Rascal would probably bite him. A small smile crept across his muzzle. Exhaling, he let the spiraling thoughts fade. Resolve crept through him, pushing out the fear. Okay. I hear you.

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[Tetra]

Koa rapped lightly on the door of Ridley's room - or at least, he was pretty sure it was his. It'd be really awkward if it wasn't, but after the other night... he had to check on the others and see how they were doing. Maybe ask about that weird voice. "Hey Ridley, its me. Uh, Koa," he called, not trying to draw any outside attention to himself. "You there?"

 

[Ambyssin]

The meal was nice. Though Nova hadn't really eaten in front of other people, so he couldn't shake that awkwardness that came from forcing the food in through the small slit.

All the while the guilt and shame kept festering in the back of the null's head. At how little he did to help the others. How they forced themselves to put on smiles and give him pats on the back. It was pity. It had to be. Nova tried similar gentle touches with some people he worked with. Particularly Gene.

... Now he understood why the mewtwo wasn't a fan of this approach. It felt degrading.

Nova eventually found his way back to the Haus and lumbered back toward his room. The dungeon incursion was over, which meant he'd have to get back to work soon enough.

 

[Panoramic_Vacuum]

It was a sign when the lines of the mayor's ledger were beginning to blur together in Steven’s vision. A sign that it was far too late into the night for him to still be awake.

With a weary hum, he closed the notebook and let his eye rest for a moment. The Haus was quiet, and had been all day. Even the Maus seemed to be taking a break from their usual hustle and bustle. But he couldn't sit idle with the meeting with Nolan looming. He needed to read through the ledger again, to make sure he would be prepared, or maybe uncover something new, something useful.

There was a slight scuffle in the walls of his room, and Steven opened his eye. Perhaps the Maus were back to work after their day off. He wouldn't have thought twice about the sounds if there wasn't something different about them.

Curious, he followed the scuttling with his eye around the walls of his room, from one side to the other. The sounds were clumsy, unwieldy… Too loud to be the Maus.

“Hello?” Steven ventured, wondering who could be sneaking around this late at night. Surely they had a good reason not to simply knock at his door.

 

[Namohysip]

Her bucket was too small again.

She'd been lamenting this fact for a while now, staring at it thoughtfully, cursing her new size and stature. Small and unnoticeable was favorable in an environment where they'd been so weak and against so many great threats. Now she dwarfed her bucket, and getting one to fit her new self was going to be cumbersome... And she'd probably evolve all over again anyway. Kicked from her metallic, watery nest all too soon.

Alas, life was never caring for one's individual plight. She was evolved, leafy, lanky, and bucketless. She would donate it to a needy Dwebble, perhaps. Or a hungry... Well, there was probably some Pokemon that ate metal. And getting the tub of a cute Treecko probably sold high if she found the right, depraved buyer...

Choices, choices...

And so Mhynt stood in the hall, staring down her old bucket, providing no explanation to passersby.

 

[Shiny Phantump]

Gladion sat on his bed, doing something to his threadbare red bandanna he'd gotten when he first arrived. It wasn't holding up so well, and whatever he was doing to it seemed to be doing more damage to the remaining good fabric instead of fixing it. It was something to keep him busy, keep his mind from lingering too fully on what had just happened. He needed, now more than ever, a simple project to keep him occupied.

Between shadows and radiance, he'd unearthed some uncomfortable thoughts. He didn't have regrets per se, it had all turned out reasonably well, but he couldn't feel good about it either. He'd figured evolution would go differently for him. Now, the memory was stained by the same all-consuming mental ache that so many of his others inspired. Left to be as much a painful one as a pleasant one. At least they'd managed to save Ark. That was the most important part, but it was hard to call a victory when it was probably inevitable anyway.

 

[canisaries]

Asleep or awake - Andre couldn't tell which he was, but whichever it was, it kept changing. Images of the bed he lay in melded into the darkness behind his eyelids, melding further into snapshots of people with blurred faces with voices familiar and unfamiliar. Every now and then, he was on his bed, and other times, he was standing, walking, sitting, pacing, struggling to stay upright, all in a human body back on Earth or something similar to it, at least.

He was with Katie, he was with Ellie, he was with Sakura, and everything was alright for a moment, but then, he was with ??? again. That someone he knew he knew but couldn't place. That black-haired someone who always brought with him a sense of peril and a stinging across Andre's back. When he was around, Andre had to watch his words, yet his words were also constrained by something else, restricted like his body sometimes was, rope coiled around his body.

This person was clearly dangerous. It didn't matter that Andre never saw him attack. That person must have threatened Andre to keep him in line. It was the only reason the two were spending time together.

Was it?

There was another feeling. A sense of moral obligation - Andre knew that feeling well. And a sense of... curiosity. It came with that book he saw over and over again yet couldn't read. The words he spoke but couldn't remember. Something... something ancient.

??? grinned, emitting warm, sunny aura. It felt nice. But it shouldn't feel nice, no. This person was... extorting him. Why did he feel... sympathy? Pity? Concern? Like the young man's actions weren't his own? Like he didn't deserve to die even though he was --

He was what? He was what? What had he done? What was he doing? Who was he?

Everything got tighter. The harder he tried to think, the more difficult it became to make sense of anything at all. Maybe this was all just a dream. Maybe this person didn't exist. Maybe he was from a movie or TV show. A comic. A story. A hypothetical.

Andre let go...

...and that's precisely when it came to him.

The young man's face. His eyes, his eyebrows, his nose, his mouth. His character. His insistence, his delusions, his god, his aggression, his fear. His crimes - he had killed, he had killed more than once, he had carved Andre's back and for none of it did he show shame or regret.

Andre remembered wanting to forget, but knowing that he shouldn't. That he alone was the one who could fix the situation, to get the young man to realize the gravity of his actions and the trickery of whoever had told him to go through with it all. So that he would confess. So that all those people could have justice and peace. So that the young man would be taken somewhere he couldn't hurt anyone again.

What was his name?

Andre remembered, and he spoke it aloud to make it real before it could vanish again.

"...Red..."

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[canisaries]

Doing another day of his mailmon job was good for Andre. He supposed it was, anyway. A return to normalcy after the terror of the Comb.

He had carried the same worries with him the entire time, though. Since the visit to Evil Fucking Cave, he'd scarcely had a waking moment where he wasn't stuck thinking about the best way to make his case to whoever he would tell, and who those people would be.

And how many? Ridley had said "a few". How many was a few? Andre didn't know. He hoped, however, that he could ask again once he'd told the first person. Hell, maybe that one person would be enough.

Either way - the week's time limit was approaching. He simply had to get this started, go with his best plans and best candidate for now. That candidate happened to be Dave, the grumpy mightyena. It was true that they'd only shared one conversation, even if it was nice, but when Andre thought about telling the people he'd talked more with, like Mhynt or Nova, his stomach turned. Sure, maybe they would have been more likely to see things Andre's way, having killed people themselves, but there was also a considerable chance that they'd hate him. Surely Dave would hate him, too, but since Andre didn't know him that well, it wouldn't hurt as much. And Dave was a very pragmatic guy. Andre could be able to convince him not to tell anyone else - after all, it would only create unnecessary unrest. Or something.

So, on this fine evening, Andre approached the room that was supposed to be Dave's according to the people he'd asked around. He took a deep, shaky breath, raised his forehoof and knocked on the door.

"Dave, are you there?" he asked. "I'd like to have a word with you. In private."

 

[Chibi Pika]

Jade lay back in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, restless thoughts drifting through her head. Mostly the Comb tonight. And what Brisa had told them, at the end there...

"Saints and stars," she swore, softly, "I can't reckon much sense of it, but some chatter about buildin' a lighthouse kept comin' up. Sounded like a figurative sense of the word, not a literal physical structure, if y'get my meanin'...? Somethin' about how, if they couldn't commune with the Beacon, they'd make their own. To light the way."

Betel was artificial. It explained everything. Why the Wayfarers were their first summons to Forlas. Why Powehi had no idea where Betel had come from. Why Betel knew everything about Forlas, and yet had experienced none of it. It made sense.

She also knew that she'd have had no clue how to process that, if it'd been her in that spot.

"Hey, um, Betel? You there? I was wondering... uh, how you were doing. Ever since the Comb."

 

[Tetra]

Exhaustion made sleep come easy, but with peace came strange dreams....

The ground blurred beneath Koa’s feet paws, his legs thrumming with energy. A streak of orange raced ahead, leaving sparks in its wake. The Roaming Cyclone. He was keeping pace with him, racing across grasslands and scrubby deserts, practically flying. He was easily as fast as the Saint, maybe faster.

They were chasing something... Someone...? High above, he saw a brilliant prism of light and color carving a path through the skies, slicing the clouds. Ho-Oh.

Impossibly high up, so high even the clouds seemed unable to reach its majestic form. With a howl, he collected all his energy, focusing... and leaped-! Higher, he could go higher, so high he was flying. Punching through clouds, soaring with the wind, simply willing it and the sky responding in turn.

Crimson and rainbow feathers flashed into his vision, and he reached out, touching Ho-Oh’s wingtips, its massive form filling his vision. For blissful moments of time, he soared alongside the legendary. Eventually he glided back down to the ground, landing lightly on three paws and clutching a feather in the fourth, feeling light as air. Free.

Koa licked his lips. He needed... a drink... Yes, he was thirsty. With the feather tucked behind his ear, he trotted to the lake nearby. Leaning down, he lapped up several mouthfuls of water, though oddly it felt as if he were drinking nothing at all. Not even air. Just nothing.

The oddness slid away and instead he found himself staring down at his own reflection, expecting - a human boy - a shiny blue Electrike wearing a Ho-Oh feather. A Manectric stared back at him. He tipped his head. The reflection tipped its head. Oh right, he’d evolved... When...? Of course. Must have just evolved recently... Right. Yes. During the battle maybe.

He was a Manectric now, but shiny. Darker blue almost black fur, familiar spiky fluffy hair and amber blue eyes... Blue..? But... He blinked and leaned closer. His reflection moved closer. Blue, not brown, eyes stared back at him. Blue, just like-

Recoiling, he bared his teeth in a snarl. The Manectric in the reflection snarled back at him, blue eyed and cold and unfeeling. Koa lashed out, blindingly fast, at himself the water, dashing the reflection. The water rippled and distorted, the image vanishing into a blob of color. He stared, and stared, as eventually it resettled.

A blue-eyed Manectric stared back at him. He reared up, slammed both paws into the water as hard as he could, feeling a rush of satisfaction- A blur of blue-black and yellow exploded toward him, something sinking into his neck and pulling him in-

Koa’s yelp was cut short as black water closed over his head. He thrashed in the grip of the Manectric, flailing awkwardly, trying fruitlessly to shock him to no avail. He smashed Manectric across the head with a glowing golden paw, his grip loosened and he wrenched himself free.

He hung in an endless expanse of black water, no sign of up or down and no sign of Manectric. Alone. He could see by a faint light emanating from his own body, except the only thing visible was darkness. Water pressed on all sides and every breath was like breathing through a straw.

Out he needed out he needed more air and solid ground. He began to kick, swimming... swimming... Up? was that light? The surface? His limbs brushed against something in the void-like blackness.

Kicking away, he pushed upward. His paws jerked abruptly to a halt. Blinking in confusion, he looked at his limbs. Thick black manacles connected to chains wrapped around his legs and neck. He jerked and fought, but they only grew more taut. That wasn’t right... Twisting around, he looked down, following the chains ever downward...

Lightning blue eyes sparked in the shadows. He stared down at them, at the form gripping the red chains. Yellow and black fur, lightning black stripes and a feline face twisted into a furious glare. Zeraora.

With a gurgled yelp, he began to kick and lunge and thrash in a wild frenzy. It did nothing. The Red Chains drew him inexorably downward, closer to the furious legendary, further and further into thick shadowy darkness. He could barely see his own paws anymore, only the ever closer form of Zeraora...

Too slow... why was it so hard... He made one last feeble attempt to get free, slashing at the chains, but his limbs felt like lead and he couldn’t muster any force behind the movement. It was getting so hard to breathe down here, was the water getting heavier?

Some people can’t be saved...

His thrashing ceased. He saw himself, watched the Manectric dragged down until he could see nothing but black-

Koa lurched, then kicked out, his mind in an addled daze as he thrust his blanket off himself and sucked in a breath of air, then another. He blinked blearily, looking around his darkened room. His tangled sheets lay in a heap on the floor, and his mind slowly connected the dots. Just a dream. He must have pulled the blanket over himself. Something like that was in his dream, wasn't it? Watching, drowning in dark water. He’d been dreaming of...

A hazy image of red chains and a blue-eyed Manectric flashed through his thoughts, along with a foggy recollection of... flying? With a Ho-Oh? What a ridiculous dream. He shuddered, then glanced out the window. Early dawn light peeked through the curtains.

Good. Good, it was almost dawn, he could stick to his old routine. Well, mostly, he’d go for a nice walk and skip the training so he could give his aching limbs a break. He glanced down at himself. Still an Elektrike...

Suppressing another shiver that he attributed to the changing seasons, he hurried through his morning routine, put on his jacket, and headed for the door.

Without stopping to look, he turned the small mirror on the dresser facedown and continued out the door.

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